For His Name's Sake
by Lirulin
Summary: How much can you endure until you break apart? And how do you put the pieces back together? Edmund remembers the worst day of his life and his brother's involvement in all of it. Brotherfic, but all siblings - and one Lion - play an important role.
1. Chapter 1

**For His Name's Sake**_  
by Lirulin_

**Disclaimer:** Nothing in here belongs to me, it's all property of the great C. S. Lewis and Disney.

I've had the idea for this story in my head for two years now, and I've finally been able to write it. It's been inspired by a song that I love very much, and I've thought about it a lot, therefore I'm quite nervous about it now. The story was supposed to be a one-shot, but it's gotten completely away from me, turning out to have almost 30 handwritten pages. But it _is_ finished. Oh, just as a side note, Peter's characterisation is movieverse, and the story ties in with the others I've written. But you don't need to read them to understand this (though feel free if you want to…). So, I hope you enjoy it!

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Christmas Eve is in less than a week, and I almost can't believe it. Not that it's Christmas, which is not coming unexpected at all, but that it's been more than half a year since we returned from Narnia again. Time has flown by so unbelievably fast, and so much has happened that on some days I still have to pause in awe. We were in Narnia for only two weeks this time, but they've changed everything. Peter and I are now closer than ever which is a small miracle if I think about how far apart we had drifted in the year before. In hindsight, I have to say that everything seems to have happened for a reason, no matter how painful it was. "You don't have to understand Aslan, you just have to trust Him", as Lucy would say. She truly is the best little sister in the world, and I don't think I would have made it through the more difficult days without her nearly unwavering faith and her support, as well as Susan's constancy and her gentle voice of reason. But my big sister is a bit of a touchy subject at the moment. She's been with her new "friends" more and more often, and whenever we talk about Narnia, she's strangely silent. I think I'll have to speak to Peter and Lucy about this soon…

The scent of cinnamon reaches my nose, and I can hear Peter and Lucy laughing downstairs. They're trying to bake cookies – with the emphasis on _trying_, I don't really want to know what they're getting up to – and I have to smile. I've always loved Christmas time, it's truly a special season all of its own. I have so many fond memories of dark evenings in December spent sitting in the living room by the light of candles, singing carols and listening to Dad reading stories for us. The air was always filled with a kind of joyful anticipation, and the atmosphere was simply… glistening. I can't find another word for it. The year before we went to the professor's house however was simply horrible. Dad was away somewhere in France, I was completely devastated without being able to express it, and everyone was generally miserable. I don't like remembering this Christmas any more than the one last year, where Peter was so sullen and practically simmering with discontent that he left the room after the first verse of "Silent Night". It was Christmas Eve, supposed to be the most wonderful evening of the year, and I was feeling a cold that reminded me frighteningly of the White Witch. In that instant, when Peter stormed out, I couldn't help thinking that perhaps his whole behaviour was some kind of twisted, delayed vengeance that she now enacted. She was dead, but seemed to have still managed to break our family apart. But this year will be different, I know it, I can feel it. Although Dad is still in the field, the rest of us are truly together again. I'm looking forward to Christmas so much now because I can feel the warmth of a united family permeating the house once more. I just hope they'll all like their presents, shopping for Peter is a bother at the best of times, and Susan is very particular in her likes and dislikes. Only Lucy loves everything she receives.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror hanging on the wall opposite the door, and I step closer to take a look into my eyes. It's a somewhat strange sensation, the longer you look the more it appears as if you could fall into yourself at any moment. I lean closer still, and now everything is blurring together till all I'm aware of is a sea of dark brown. I wonder what others see when they look into my eyes, which are supposed to be the windows to my soul after all. Do my eyes reveal the happiness I now feel? Do they hold my past as well? The deeper I look, the clearer I find remnants of the sorrow and heartache that were my companions for far too long. It's amazing that my eyes seem to retain traces of the pain when the wounds that were inflicted on me have long healed. Even the scars have mostly vanished by now, but I do realise that the memories will most likely stay with me forever.

I turn away from the mirror and walk over to the window, leaning my forehead on the cool glass and watching the softly falling snow as it slowly spreads a white blanket over the world. It's a soothing view, tranquil and invoking a sense of muted stillness. But my thoughts are anything but calm all of a sudden. Perhaps I shouldn't have started this reminiscing about eyes and pain because now I can't stop anymore. In my mind's eye the snow turns into pelting rain that is drenching me to the bone. A cold rain that was nevertheless not able to even come close to the ice in my heart. And I can't help remembering the worst day of my life…

888

The day had fortunately been pretty relaxed so far which meant that Peter had not yet gotten into any fight, was a bit less tense and not barricading himself in his room. Compared to how irritable he had been during the past week, this development was very positive in Edmund's book. Of course, he was irritable and short-tempered most of the time, but even by his standards the last few days had been bad. Edmund had gotten used to a lot from Peter, but when his brother had snapped at Lucy, he had almost lost his composure. Lucy was the only one who still had some luck reaching Peter, of having more or less normal conversations with him, and she tried everything to integrate him in the family life. Therefore, Edmund was still quite angry when he thought about what had happened last Wednesday.

The look on Lucy's face had been absolutely heart-wrenching, and when she had fled the room he had wanted to punch Peter. As it was, they'd gotten into an intense shouting match that had resulted in Peter ignoring him for the next two days. Not that _that_ was anything new… Later that night Lucy had stolen into his room, and he had not been able to do anything more than hold her while she cried. She had been so confused, not understanding at all what was happening with her big brother who had always been her protector, had always treated her lovingly and with respect, and she had been looking to Edmund for answers. But he had not had any; he was at a complete loss as well and could barely recognise 'Peter' in the stranger now inhabiting his brother's body. And Edmund couldn't help wondering if his best friend would ever come back. At the moment it looked very much impossible, and it cost him a lot of strength not to fall into either despair or overwhelming rage.

As Lucy had lain sobbing and trembling in his arms, he had for the first time in fifteen years – for he was still counting in Narnian time – felt the resentment that had been his constant companion before they had found Narnia. Who did his brother think he was, inflicting his bad mood on everyone, snarling at anyone who so much as looked at him in the wrong way and being generally cross all the time? And to upset Lucy… Peter _knew_ how deeply she felt everything, how important her siblings were to her and how much she relied on the bonds between them. His words had been simply cruel, and even Edmund was still reeling from their impact, not to speak of Lucy. Wasn't Peter aware of how much all of them were missing Narnia – their kingdom, their home? He couldn't count the times that he and Susan and Lucy had been sitting in one of their rooms, wishing with all that they had to go back, trying to think of a way that it might be possible. On one memorable Saturday afternoon they had even been so desperate that they'd started knocking on the back of every wardrobe in the house.

But Peter seemed to be oblivious to all but his own distress (because that was what Edmund sometimes suspected to be behind his peevishness). He didn't appear to care whether he was alienating them or not. It was a complete mystery, but Edmund had trouble reading Peter anyway which was not something he had ever expected to experience. They had been so attuned to each other that they had been able to finish each other's sentences, had known what the other would say before he opened his mouth. Now Peter was a closed book to him, incomprehensible and completely unpredictable, for which the episode with Lucy was the best example.

When Peter had yelled at Lucy that she should've gone after the White Stag alone, that they all would've been better off then, Edmund had at first believed something to be wrong with his ears. Peter had never before spoken to their sweet little sister in such a manner, and it was so irrational that for a moment it seemed as if he had finally taken leave of his senses. Edmund had looked around, wondering if the earth had jumped off its axis or if they had perhaps fallen into a parallel universe, but Peter had just continued glowering at Lucy till she finally left and then had gone back to his book, at least until Edmund confronted him.

Lucy had been utterly devastated and nearly incoherent with grief later on, confessing to Edmund that Peter's sentiments had echoed the thoughts she had already had more than once, that she was now and then feeling such a crushing guilt for losing them their home that she could then barely breathe. And she had repeatedly asked him if he thought everything had really been her fault because she had insisted first on pursuing the White Stag and then on going further into the thicket behind the lantern. It had taken all of Edmund's considerable eloquence to console her, to make her see things clearly again and to convince her that it had never been her fault, that neither he nor Susan had ever entertained the notion of holding her responsible, and that Peter surely hadn't meant what he had said.

Her breakdown had come as a big shock to Edmund because she was usually the one who displayed an unshakeable optimism, seeing Aslan's will in everything and trusting Him implicitly. To see her doubts laid bare like this had been a particularly unpleasant awakening for Edmund, reminding him sharply that his little sister had as many uncharted depths as he himself and that no one could be truly confident all the time. So an at least to him strange role reversal had taken place that night, with Edmund trying his best to make Lucy – and himself as well – believe that everything was in Aslan's hand and that He must have had a plan when he sent them back to England. She had listened to him attentively, gradually calming down, and by the end she had fallen asleep, a small smile on her face. Edmund had been awake for at least another hour, watching over her and vowing to himself that he would do everything in his power to give her back her happiness and to protect her from attacks such as she had suffered earlier, even if that meant taking drastic action against Peter. He had had no idea what these actions might look like or entail – he still hadn't – but he _would_ be there for her.

Additionally, there had been his conscience keeping him awake, for he knew himself well enough to realise that his indignation on behalf of Lucy was also a convenient means to ignore and flee from his own upset and tangled emotions. Focusing on Lucy, even if just for a time, enabled him to shove away his own hurt, the ache that seemed to be burying deeper into his heart with each passing day, the longing to have his best friend, his brother, back. Sometimes it felt as if half of his soul had been ripped away from him, and he'd give everything to return things to the way they had been before. He missed Peter so much, missed their closeness, their talks, their ability to communicate scores of meaning with only a glance, and his continued absence was like an open wound. Edmund would even be grateful for just one afternoon without that dreadful tension Peter seemed to be wearing like a cloak.

More often than not he was completely helpless in the face of Peter's outbursts, and although he would always stand by him and be steadfast – as his bruised knuckles and black eye from the day before attested to – it was becoming increasingly difficult. The incident with Lucy was the best proof of how he was ever more entangling himself in a web of conflicting loyalties, and he was afraid that he'd soon be unable to get out. If only he could comprehend what was going on in Peter's head! But his brother refused to open up in any way, no matter what Edmund tried, so there was no chance whatsoever of understanding or helping him.

Edmund frequently asked himself – and the great Lion as well – what His designs were, what He intended with all the sorrow they were now enduring because he honestly didn't have the foggiest idea. At times it was so hard trusting Aslan, especially when all he could see around him was darkness and division, but he struggled to do it nonetheless since he was certain he would go crazy otherwise. He hoped Aslan would let them know His plans soon because he didn't know how much longer he'd be able to stand this state of uncertainty. For now, Edmund simply continued on, day by day, begging Him to bring about a change sooner rather than later.

TBC

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So, that was the first chapter. Please tell me what you think and if you like it. As I said, I'm a bit uncertain about it and I'd therefore be happy to hear your thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

A big thank you to those who reviewed! I'm glad you liked the first chapter!

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_For now, Edmund simply continued on, day by day, begging Him to bring about a change sooner rather than later._

He was abruptly brought out of his thoughts by a knock at his door, and he only hoped that nothing had happened. He wanted to finish at least one day on a more or less good note.

"Come in."

The door opened, and Susan entered his room, looking as wary as he had sounded.

"Edmund? I just wanted to see how you are. You have not come downstairs since lunch…"

She crossed the room to sit on the edge of his bed, and Edmund let her prod his bruised face gently while he shrugged his shoulders. What was he supposed to tell her? That he was trying to avoid any confrontation and thought that staying up here was his best chance to do that? He didn't want to make her even sadder, she was miserable enough, as her expression clearly showed.

"I'm fine."

Which was of course a blatant lie. Susan lifted her eyebrow, stating clearly that she could see right through him, and Edmund let himself fall backwards onto his back, hiding his face in his hands.

"What do you want me to say, Su?"

He heard a quiet huff which was Susan's general mode of making her displeasure known, then his arm was pried away from his face, and he was confronted with a look that clearly told him he'd not be able to dissemble. The Gentle she might be called, but if she had her mind set on something, she could exhibit a stubborn streak that was at least as wide as his own. Coupled with her tendency to mother him when she thought he was in some kind of trouble, or simply felt he needed it, Edmund didn't stand a chance.

"The truth would be nice, Edmund."

Resigned to his fate, he sat up again. He knew logically that talking always helped at least a little, but that didn't mean he had to like it. It felt as if they had done nothing _but_ talking in the last few months, and it frustrated him to no end that there was no _action_ they could take to change anything about the circumstances they now found themselves in. However, he also didn't want to close himself off from his sisters as Peter had done, so openness it was.

"Honestly? I'm not feeling all that great."

Susan made a concerned noise and started inspecting his bruise again, so Edmund hastened to reassure her.

"No, it's not that, it doesn't even hurt anymore. It's just… I don't know what to do anymore, Su."

Her face immediately turned sympathetic, and she laid a comforting hand on his arm.

"Peter."

No more words were needed, and Edmund simply nodded.

"I've tried everything. Talking to him. _Not_ talking to him. Yelling. Asking what is wrong. Provoking him. Appealing alternately to his honour, his sense of justice or his dignity… Nothing! It's as if he doesn't hear me at all. _If_ he even acknowledges I'm there. It's as if I just don't exist for him."

To his annoyance he could feel tears pricking behind his eyes. He really had done enough crying by now, and it didn't help the situation in any way, even if it usually made him feel better. On the other hand, he knew that Susan understood him, understood his frustration and helplessness, as she had quite enough of her own experiences of trying to talk to Peter. Now she scooted over and put her arms around him, holding him tight. There were tears in her eyes as well.

"Oh Edmund! I know. I know you have tried so hard. And you've been so brave this whole time. I'm really so proud of you. But I'm as helpless as you are. Sometimes I think there _is_ nothing more we can do. We can only be patient. Surely Peter cannot stay in this frame of mind forever."

Edmund stilled a bit, contemplating her words. He was very grateful for her support and her attempt to console him. And he couldn't quite express how much it meant to him that she was proud of him because more often than not he felt as if he had disappointed them somehow in not keeping their family together. He _had been_ the one closest to Peter after all. In moments such as these, Susan had become his voice of reason, pulling him back when he threatened to lose himself in his misery, confusion and perceived failure. And on top of that she had gone to great lengths to be a substitute for Peter, even bringing herself to talk about some of the battles with him and trying to grasp the strategies he was outlining, no matter how much she normally disliked these topics. Edmund appreciated her attempts very much and gave her great credit for them, but it was of course impossible for her to replace Peter because his relationship to his sister was so different from that to his brother.

"Thanks Su. But it's so difficult, you know? How can I be patient when he acts so… so unkingly? When he brushes us away all the time, dismisses every word we say?"

Susan squeezed him a bit tighter and started rubbing up and down his arm.

"Of course I know it is difficult. Do you think it is easy for me to stay calm when he starts one of these stupid arguments again? I just wish you would stay out of his fights, Eddy. It's so horrible to see you get hurt all the time."

Edmund, who knew how much she was suffering because of the violent fits Peter fell into with the least provocation, now wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned his forehead against hers.

"I'm sorry, Su, but you know that I can't do that. I can't stand by and watch when he gets beaten up. I've sworn oaths to Peter, and I'm not going to break them. They mean so much more than either one of us, and no matter how hard it is, Peter is still my High King. Not to speak of the fact that he'll always be my brother, no matter how much I disapprove of his actions. I'll never be able to abandon him."

Susan gave a small sob and punched his shoulder lightly, then leaned forward and buried her face in his neck, letting her tears fall.

"Why do you have to be so noble all the time? It's not fair! You are doing everything you can to be a good brother, and he… I'm so, so angry, Edmund! I could hit him over and over for what he is doing to you and Lucy. If he is not acting like a king, he doesn't deserve to be treated like one!"

Edmund sighed and rested his head on hers. He could barely sort his own confused thoughts and feelings, so it was almost impossible to explain them to Susan, but he tried nonetheless.

"You know it doesn't work like that. If we start completely antagonising him, it will only get worse than it already is. Perhaps now of all times, we have to treat him like a king more than ever. Perhaps… I don't know… Perhaps this might remind him of who he is. Like I said, we've all already tried everything else. If all the reasoning and all the attempts to find out what is wrong and all our reproaches are not working… We don't have anything to lose that's not already gone."

Susan only cried harder, and it took a few moments until her sobs subsided so far that she could speak again.

"So… You mean we should just… just let him do what he wants? Not say anything anymore? That cannot be good…"

Edmund sighed, struggling to formulate this idea that had just come to him a bit more clearly.

"No, of course not. I mean… Perhaps if we talk to him as we did in Narnia… I don't know, the speech patterns might trigger some reaction or memories. Or if we… if we ask his advice on things again, and then listen to him. Just so he knows he's _still_ a king, and we also _still_ see him as one."

Susan was silent, then nodded against him and tried to compose herself again.

"Yes, you might have a point there. It could work… maybe. Though I am not sure if I can simply do that… I'll have to think about it a bit more… And anyway, why are _you_ comforting _me_ now? I came in to look after you."

Despite everything, Edmund had to smile. Trust his big sister's mind to latch onto this of all things.

"Su, you know we are all there for each other. Doesn't matter who's comforting whom. And you _have_ been there for me. You helped me focus again."

They remained silent in their embrace for a few more moments, then Susan pushed away and wiped her eyes.

"Of course I know that, and I am more than grateful that I have you and Lucy. I don't know what I'd do without you. But still, I should…"

Here Edmund pressed a finger to her lips, effectively interrupting her. He had heard this argument often enough and still had not managed to convince her that she didn't have to put so much pressure on herself.

"Please, Su, not again! Don't forget that we've all been adults, and that we still are in some ways. You don't have to try and shield us from everything. We are in this together, and the sooner you finally accept it, the better. Don't think I didn't notice you excluding yourself when you talked about what Peter has done. Lucy and I are not the only ones that have been hurt."

Susan opened her mouth, then closed it again, as if she didn't quite know what to say. She looked away from him, over to the window, and Edmund followed her gaze, watching the dark clouds chasing each other across the sky. It was obvious that she was in deep contemplation now, and he let her be. Sometimes silence truly was golden.

His thoughts wandered for once not to Peter, but to their kingdom. A pang of longing, guilt and grief shot through his heart. For what felt like the millionth time he wondered what had happened when they hadn't returned from their hunt. There would of course have been a search; Oreius had most likely turned over every stone to find them. But what then? What had been their subjects' thoughts when their monarchs had vanished into thin air? How had the immediate future been organised? There had been so many appointments and meetings scheduled.

King Lune had been expected to arrive the next week with his sons and Aravis, they had planned to celebrate the twins' sixteenth birthday in Narnia, and preparations for this big event had already been well under way. They all had looked forward so much to seeing their friends from Archenland again. Lucy had taken over responsibility for the decorations and had made elaborate plans that promised to transform the entire Great Hall. Susan herself had worked out the design for a monumental birthday cake that had been supposed to have three layers, covered in multi-coloured iced sugar and topped with a miniature Cor and Corin complete with the armour that was to have been their birthday present from their father.

All of them had awaited the celebration with anticipation, not only because it was such a joyous occasion, but also because of the difficulties they had faced during the preceding year, ranging from near disastrous treaty negotiations with Calormen much too soon after their battle at Anvard to almost constant skirmishes along their Northern borders despite Peter's victory over the giants. The feast had therefore also been meant to mark the beginning of a calmer, more peaceful year.

And then everything had come crashing down around them. On some days, when he was feeling particularly morose, he wished that he had never heard about the White Stag. Would they still be in Narnia if they hadn't gone on the hunt? Or would Aslan have found another way to send them back to England? Edmund was desperate to believe that everything that had happened belonged to Aslan's plan and would make sense some day. He tried to remember everything Narnia had taught him, everything he had learned from Aslan. He sought to recall every word the Lion had ever spoken to his mind and to cling to them, and sometimes he succeeded. But there were days when the image of Aslan that he held in his heart dimmed, and then the doubts crept in. And with the doubts usually came the guilt.

Although he knew in his head that it hadn't been their fault, Edmund still felt as if he had abandoned his people, his country and his home. He had sworn to protect Narnia with his life, and the fact that he couldn't do that anymore was almost like treason to him. That thought of course brought memories with it which he didn't want to touch with a ten-foot pole because he would surely break down completely if he did. There was only so much he could bear at once. But he would naturally never _stop_ thinking of Narnia because that would be even worse.

Edmund was glad that he had Susan and Lucy, who helped him in keeping Narnia alive through their conversations, but more than anything he needed Peter there as well. They were incomplete without him, and sometimes it seemed as if Narnia was slipping through their fingers because of it. But his brother was still drifting further away from them with each passing day, and he could only hope that they would find a solution to bring him back soon.

Suddenly, Susan turned back to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I am sorry, Edmund. You are right, of course. I keep forgetting all the time."

He had to stop and think for a moment before he remembered what she was talking about, and in the meantime, she continued.

"I know that you and Lucy are adults, and I am truly sorry that I don't treat you accordingly again and again. It's just that everything is so horribly confusing. I still feel like twenty-seven, but then I look into a mirror, and I don't recognise the person I see. And I don't understand any of it! How can I return to being thirteen? Sometimes, I don't know who I am anymore and… And I just want to go home!"

She grabbed his pillow and hurled it across the room before curling up on her side on the bed and starting to sob anew. Edmund could only nod. He understood her so well, and it saddened him that he could do nothing more than listen to her.

"I know. Believe me Susan, I know. Whenever Peter gets into a fight, my first reaction is to reach for a sword that's not there any longer. Or I wake up and wait for Aristus to come into the room, shooing me out of bed and berating me for my poor choices in clothing. And then I open my eyes and see the white walls instead of my purple bed curtains, and I could scream because it hurts so much. I want nothing more than to go home as well, Su, to see all our friends again, to have things back to normal. And it's breaking my heart that we can't do anything about it at the moment, but I also am absolutely convinced that we can't give up. We have to go on thinking and talking about Narnia because if we don't, we truly abandon her and every last one of our subjects."

Edmund had started rubbing circles on Susan's back, and her sobs had slowly quieted down. He felt drained, but was nevertheless glad that his words seemed to have reached her. After a few more minutes she even managed a small smile.

"Thanks, Ed. I needed to hear that. What would I do without you?"

Edmund laughed at that and jostled her playfully.

"You'd have one brother less to worry about. And no need for thanks. Remember last month, when I almost took your room apart because I was so angry? I don't know what I'd done if you and Lucy hadn't calmed me down. Don't you forget that we're all there for each other… Or well… almost all."

Susan sat up and hugged him again, but before she could reply, Edmund's door was flung open and a pale, trembling Lucy stumbled into the room.

TBC

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Things are certainly not getting better for Edmund for a time… Please tell me what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Thank you for your very nice comments! I'm really happy that you like this so far.

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_Susan sat up and hugged him again, but before she could reply, Edmund's door was flung open and a pale, trembling Lucy stumbled into the room._

"Edmund! Susan! Please, you have to come downstairs! Peter is having a huge row with Mum!"

Through the now open door they could clearly hear the raised voices coming from the living room, and Edmund and Susan immediately sprang up from the bed, heading over to Lucy. Susan pulled her into a tight embrace, and Edmund, after running his hand gently through his little sister's hair, rushed out of the room and almost sprinted down the stairs.

Peter's words now reached his ears, even louder than before.

"You do not have a right to tell me _anything_! Who do you think you are? I am perfectly capable of arranging my own affairs, and I live my own life! I neither need nor want your pushy interference! I am sorry, but you are completely delusional if you think I would even consider it just because you – _you_ – want me to! It is a waste of my time even talking to you, obtuse as you are! Don't you ever dare doing something like that again! I will not tell you twice, do you hear me? … Oh whatever! Continuing this conversation is beneath me!"

Edmund's mouth fell open and his eyes widened in absolute shock. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, Peter had never before talked to their mum like this. It was so contrary to everything Peter was – or at least to how Edmund had _thought_ Peter was – that all of his thoughts ground to a complete standstill. It was just so inconceivable. What had gotten into Peter to speak like this? Edmund couldn't think of anything his mother might do that would warrant such a violent reaction. And on the heels of his shock came the anger. How dare he address their mum like that? He still didn't know what the argument had been about, but _nothing_ gave him the right to insult her, after everything she had gone through and done for them! But before he could think of how to act now, Peter burst out of the living room, passing Edmund by without even glancing at him and left the house, banging the door loudly.

Edmund cautiously made his way into the room, being uncertain as to what he would find there, but determined to make sure that his mum was alright. He found her sitting on the sofa, a look of astonished disbelief on her face. It was heartbreaking to see her like this, she seemed smaller somehow and was quite obviously so desperately confused by the blow she had been dealt that she couldn't even move.

"Um… Mum?"

Her eyes snapped to his face, and she sat up straighter in an instant, trying to compose herself. Edmund realised that she wanted to present a strong front to him, and it made him feel a strange mixture of love and shame. In all their misery over losing Narnia and their longing to get back to their home he had too often forgotten or refused to see how hard all of this must've been for their mother as well. What had she felt, with her husband being in the field, not knowing if she would ever see him again, and then having to send her children away? She had had to hold the family together all by herself, had had to provide for them and try to keep them safe, and all without – or at least not much – immediate support. He had not been a very good son before they went to the country, and much to his disgrace not afterwards as well. And now she was about to shoulder the burden all alone again.

"Edmund. Is something wrong, darling?"

Edmund almost laughed out loud at that, even though it was not funny in the least, and his heart went out to her. She had to realise that he had just witnessed what was most likely the nastiest fallout in the history of their family, and still she attempted to portray a nonexistent calm and to be there for him.

"Mum, please! You don't have to… How are you? Is there anything I can do for you?"

Her face crumbled a bit, and she looked away quickly, but not before Edmund saw a tear run down her cheek. He was beside her in an instant, kneeling on the floor next to the sofa, and took one of her hands in both of his. He had never seen her cry, and this more than anything told him how badly she had been hurt.

"Oh Edmund! I am so sorry you had to hear that. I … I do not even know what happened. I only told Peter that I thought he was sitting in his room too much, that I was afraid he was isolating himself, and that I have therefore contacted our local rugby club and arranged for him to join them for their next training session. I thought it would be good for him to socialise more again and to get rid of all his pent up energy. I was sure he would like it, but… You heard him. I do not understand what is happening… All of you have changed so much, and sometimes I do not know what… I am sorry, dear. I should not be burdening you with this."

Edmund squeezed her hand tight and briefly leaned his head against her knee. He felt guilty that he had been so preoccupied with himself, his sisters and his problems with Peter that he hadn't noticed his mother's plight. And he promised himself that he would not make the same mistake again.

"You're not burdening me, Mum. And please don't be sorry! I'm the one who should apologise. I should've… I don't know. So much has happened, Mum, and I'm sorry I didn't help you more… or talked to you. I promise I'll try to explain, but… not now, Mum. I can't… just now. I'm sorry."

His mother freed her hand and lifted his head, kissing his forehead and then letting one of her hands linger on his hair.

"It is alright, darling. You _are_ a great help to me. Just seeing the changes in you, even if I do not understand them, makes me happy. To have you all here now is enough consolation for me. Do not concern yourself too much, I will manage to deal with your brother."

She looked behind him, and Edmund turned to see Susan and Lucy standing in the doorway. He got up from the floor and caught Lucy as she flew into his arms, while Susan sat down beside their mother, linking their arms together and leaning against her side. Lucy was still quivering slightly, and Edmund recognised that she had to have witnessed the fight in its entirety, and that it had obviously shaken her badly.

"It's alright, Lu. It's over now."

Her hands fisted in his shirt, and she pressed her face into his chest so that she sounded very muffled when she spoke.

"He was so mean, Eddy! Whatever shall we do? He's not Peter anymore!"

Edmund caught Susan's eye briefly and nodded at her meaningfully. She seemed to understand him because she began talking softly to their mother who had already halfway risen to comfort her youngest daughter, but sat down again now. He then bent his head to speak into Lucy's ear.

"I know. We've talked about this before, and you know we can't do anything at the moment. I'll tell you later what Susan and I spoke about, we might've thought of another idea. But first we have to try and help Mum. Can you imagine what _she_ must be feeling now? Please, Lu, don't be so sad. Remember what you've told me every time before we went into battle? That there's no problem so great that Aslan can't help us over it? We have to believe that this is still true here."

He felt it immediately when his words registered with her, for her shoulders straightened, and she then stepped away from him. And he could see the light returning to her eyes as she looked up at him, marvelling once again how clearly her faith was visible in her whole countenance. All it took to allay the doubts that occasionally troubled her as well as all of them was a small reminder of Aslan, and Edmund sometimes wished that he could be the same. He trusted Aslan, of course, but for him it was often a matter of telling himself again and again that he did, of _deciding_ consciously to do it, while for Lucy it seemed to be instinctual, something that she simply _felt_. It was of no consequence now, however, he was just happy that the sadness was leaving her face.

"Thanks Eddy!"

His mother must've sensed the slightly relaxed atmosphere as well because she stood to join them now, laying a hand on Edmund's shoulder and motioning to Susan with the other, smiling at them when the older girl came over and put her arm around Lucy.

"I am so proud of all of you. I know the situation is very difficult at the moment, and you are handling it wonderfully."

Edmund ducked his head and blushed a bit, he was still not used to his mother praising him more frequently now and often felt that he did not deserve it, considering how beastly he had been to her before. He hoped that he would soon find the right time – and the courage – to apologise for everything he had done and to at least try and explain some of it.

But at present, he knew he had something else to do, so he took a deep breath and stepped out of the family circle.

"I think I'll go after Peter. See if he's calmed down. Talk to him."

His mother looked worried, but nodded, while Susan and Lucy exchanged anxious glances.

"Alright darling, but please take care. It is going to start raining soon."

Edmund tried to appear reassuring, was however not at all certain of his success. He knew that they knew that dealing with Peter would be nowhere near easy, but he believed that he had to do it, that it was his duty somehow.

So he left the living room, grabbed his jacket and was almost out of the door when a small hand on his arm stopped him. Turning back around, he encountered his little sister's eyes, regarding him solemnly.

"Eddy, please, please be careful. And I don't mean the weather. You didn't hear the beginning. Peter was so… so imbalanced. As if he was hanging on by a thread. And I fear he might snap. Please try to stay even-tempered, yes? I'm afraid he might… do something. I don't want you to get hurt!"

Edmund forced a smile for her. He had already had similar thoughts and knew that being calm would be the best course of action. But he also knew that this was virtually impossible, given his simmering emotions.

"I promise to try, Lu, but…"

He broke off, shaking his head and sighing loudly. There was no need to finish this sentence, Lucy knew what was hanging unspoken in the air just as well as he did.

"Wish me luck."

Lucy laughed tremulously and hugged him quickly.

"No, I wish you Aslan's blessings. That's bound to help."

Edmund inclined his head in agreement, then stepped out of the house and began moving down the street, glancing back once and waving at Lucy who was still standing in the doorway.

The dark, grey clouds overhead were looking more ominous with each passing minute, and Edmund had a feeling that he would be caught in more than one storm before long. He had an idea where Peter might have gone, but he didn't have any clue how to approach him. He dearly hoped that he would find the right things to say, that he would be able to reach his brother, but he was extremely doubtful at the same time. For one, Peter seemed to have been so far gone that he was very likely completely inaccessible to any reason. And for another, there was himself.

Intellectually, in his head, he knew that Lucy was absolutely right, that he had to be the picture of serenity if he wanted to retain even the slightest possibility of a favourable outcome. But his heart told a different story altogether. He remembered Peter's words clearly, and the more they echoed in his mind, the more these almost overwhelming feelings were coming to the surface. And despite Lucy's cautions, the anger came back full force. Together with his overly pronounced sensitivity regarding matters of respect, justice and honour, it did not make for a good combination.

Edmund didn't want this to turn ugly, and he would try everything in his power to prevent the situation from deteriorating, but Peter's treatment of their mother was simply unacceptable after everything she had done for them. He had to realise that she was only doing what she thought was best for them and wanted to help them! It simply couldn't go on like this!

TBC

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I hope you liked it, I really wanted to show the family dynamic a bit. Please leave a review and tell me what you think. The next chapter will have the big confrontation, so it might take me a bit longer to upload it. I want to get it right.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

To all my lovely reviewers: Thank you so much! Your words really mean a lot to me, and I'm happy that you like the story. I hope you'll still say the same after this chapter…

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Edmund found his brother exactly where he had expected him to be, in the park a few streets away from their house. The first raindrops were just beginning to fall, and he hoped they wouldn't be out here for too long, but considering the other's stance, this was most likely fated to be a vain wish. Peter was leaning against a tree with his fists clenched, staring at the ducks swimming around on the park's little pond with such a forbidding expression on his face that most anyone would have turned tail just seeing it.

An inexplicable frisson of dread shot through Edmund, and he had the sudden feeling that he was standing at a crossroads. Suddenly he knew with startling clarity that something would change today, though he could not say if for better or worse – or both. However, he didn't have the leisure to dwell on that now, so he pushed these rather unsettling thoughts aside and approached the tree slowly.

"Peter?"

The older boy's head shot up, and Edmund almost recoiled at the nearly unbridled fury that was reflected at him.

"What do you want?"

Peter looked away from him again, avoiding eye contact, and Edmund briefly mused that Lucy's assessment had been spot on, he _really_ seemed to be about to snap at any moment. Nevertheless, his brother's temper had never been able to prevent him from speaking his mind. And by the Lion, did he have a lot to say!

"What do _I_ want? You rush out of the house as if the entire army of the White Witch were chasing you, after insulting Mum in the _worst_ possible manner, and you ask _me_ what I want? I want to know what in the Lion's name is going on with you!"

Edmund took another step forward, he wanted Peter to look at him, but his brother turned his back to him, facing the pond.

"It's none of your business! Stay out of it!"

Edmund crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows in disbelief, even though Peter could not see it. That had to be one of the most stupid arguments he'd ever heard.

"Excuse me? ! That was also _my_ mother you disrespected so blatantly just now! I think that makes it very much my business!"

Peter barely seemed to be listening to him, clenching and unclenching his fists and then stooping down to pick up a stone and flinging it at the pond with so much force that the ducks fluttered away in agitation.

"Whatever! And anyway, there was no disrespect! She had no right to patronise me like this, so I will talk to her as I please. Who does she think she is?"

Edmund felt his anger bubbling up and tried – quite unsuccessfully – to rein it in. He simply had had enough. Crossing the distance between them quickly, he grabbed Peter's shoulder and whirled him around.

"What is _wrong _with you? That's our _mother _you're talking about! It is _you_ who has absolutely no right to speak to her like this, or to treat her so shamefully. She's done everything for us, trying to allow us to have at least a halfway normal childhood during the war, and she only wants what's best for us. There's no reason, and certainly no justification, for what you did!"

Peter's eyes glittered at him dangerously, but Edmund wouldn't let go. He would not let his brother get away again, he _would_ find out what was going on, even if they came to blows over it. Peter however seemed to have other ideas because he just pushed Edmund away rudely and started pacing along the pond's edge.

"Well, if she wants what is best, she should have known not to do something like that. I am very capable of deciding what is good for me, and I do not require anyone concerning themselves with my affairs. It doesn't matter if they think I need it!"

Edmund almost didn't know what to reply. This was really a complete stranger speaking with his brother's voice. Where had his Peter gone?

"Can you even hear yourself talking? You're being completely selfish _and_ ridiculous! You're not an island, Peter Pevensie! There are a lot of people around you who care about you and want to help you if you'd just let them!"

Peter scoffed at him, and Edmund valiantly resisted going over there and shaking some sense into him.

"Oh yes! And I'm guessing you are one of them! Edmund Pevensie, guardian of all in need and his mother's champion! You have always wanted to be the big hero, haven't you? And how convenient that _I_ can be made out to be the evil one, right? Well, I will not have any of it! You can just take your care and leave me alone!"

Edmund recoiled as if struck, this venom stung more than any direct strike could have.

"Peter! Are you crazy? I've never… I never wanted… Peter, I'm your _brother_! I want to understand you, I want to help you. But I can't do that if you're acting like the biggest prat on the planet all the time!"

His words had gotten progressively louder until he was almost shouting at the end. Peter had finally turned around and they were now facing each other like two combatants, ready to launch into battle at any moment.

"Oh, now I am a prat as well, am I? Well, thank you so much for your assessment, _brother_!"

Peter's lips curled into a derisive smile, and Edmund almost didn't know what to do anymore. He wasn't reaching Peter at all and was nearly shaking with frustration.

"Will you stop only hearing what you want to hear! I want to help you, get into your head! But you have to cease being so self-absorbed! Do you even know what you're doing to us? Do you know how much Lucy cried last week because of _your_ words? _I_ had to try and console her because _you_ are of course emotionally unavailable as of late! Because you are so busy beating up everyone who so much as looks at you wrongly! Do you even still care about anyone's feelings but your own?"

Edmund felt a tiny bit better to have gotten this off his chest, but he knew the next instant that it had been to no avail. While a stricken look briefly flashed through Peter's eyes, his face hardened again immediately.

"Don't you dare telling me what I have to stop doing! You do not know anything!"

Once again, Peter had refused to acknowledge the rest of what Edmund had said and just focused on what he deemed to be an insult. But his voice sounded nearly hysterical now, and Edmund thought that he was perhaps getting somewhere now.

"Then tell me, Peter! I've had quite enough of your brooding!"

The rain was falling quite heavily by now, and they were both already drenched. But Edmund ignored the coldness that was seeping into his body, getting Peter to talk was much more important.

"I am not brooding! I am a king and I _demand_ the respect that is my due!"

Edmund just shook his head and blinked in surprise. That was not exactly what he had expected. He had hoped to hear what was _truly_ on Peter's mind, beneath all the aggression and his seclusion, but he was obviously still unwilling to share. Additionally, Edmund was once again becoming very exasperated. Peter was just being so irrational!

"You _demand_ respect? Have you forgotten everything we learned in Narnia? Respect is _earned_, not _claimed_! You can't go around insulting everyone as you please, pushing all of us away and being generally irritable all the time and then demand respect!"

Edmund realised that things were getting out of hand fast, but he felt unable to prevent it. His brother was stalking over to him, and for a moment he truly thought Peter was about to hit him because his whole body language screamed rage and violence. But he just grabbed his shirt and shook him once, hard, not letting go and practically growling at him.

"Shut up! I know very well what we learned in Narnia, and I also know that I am the High King! As such, respect is. My. Due! And you can keep your moralising to yourself! You are one to talk anyway, lecturing _me_ on what I should do! _You _were the one who was a complete nightmare to live with! _You _were the one who always got into trouble and was generally unbearable! _You _were the one who had absolutely no respect for _anybody_! And _you_ were the one who thought about no one but himself!"

Peter had stabbed a finger into his chest with every exclamation and shoved him away now, resuming his angry pacing. Edmund stumbled back, almost falling to the ground, feeling strangely numb for a few endless minutes before his emotions crashed down on him. Peter knew exactly which buttons to push so that it hurt the most, and he was in almost pitiful disbelief that he would use these memories against him. Was there nothing left of the bond they had shared? They had promised to always be there for each other! At the same time, Edmund was furious that Peter would stoop so low, would exploit the trust that he had put in him in such a manner. Edmund remembered how difficult it had been for him to talk to Peter about what had happened between them before Narnia. How much courage and willpower it had cost him to confess all the misdeeds he had committed. And for Peter to fling it all back into his face…

A flurry of images assailed him, he couldn't stop them. Ruining his mother's favourite scarf – on purpose because he hadn't been allowed to go to the zoo with his friends – and then blaming Lucy for it. Shattering an old vase – an heirloom from his grandmother – in a fit of rage. Pushing Susan from the swings, making Lucy eat sand cakes, a host of small things that nevertheless amounted to a huge mountain. And then of course… his treason. For a second, he was back in the Witch's camp, tied to a tree and crushed by guilt so enormous that he was sure he would die from this feeling alone. For the blink of an eye he tasted Turkish Delight and almost had to gag. Edmund felt his own vulnerability, sensed the tears that were threatening to overflow, while a great fury tried to take hold of him at the same time. So to protect himself and to deflect the stinging words, he resorted to what he knew he could handle: sarcasm.

"Well, thank you most kindly for reminding me of all my numerous transgressions, your Majesty! I am humbled by your matchless magnanimity! Does your Highness wish me to prostrate myself to demonstrate my abounding respect for your exalted person? I do hope the citizenry of this park is paying you the tribute that you are due. Or do they need to be chastised? For shame, I shall start with yonder oak. It does have an insolent look about it!"

Peter flushed a deep red, and a flash of gleeful satisfaction went through Edmund. He was perfectly aware of the fact that this kind of behaviour was not very conducive to what he was hoping to achieve, but it felt really good! And honestly, Peter's demand for respect was more than ridiculous and made him sound like a petulant child. Peter meanwhile looked about ready to jump down his throat.

"Stop mocking me! I am still your High King and as such I forbid you to talk to me like that! It is enough that all the witless adults around me are treating me like a kid when I am a king! I will not allow my own brother to deride me like this!"

"Well, if you're acting like a child…"

Edmund had been muttering this almost to himself, but Peter had heard anyway and was taking a menacing step towards him once more, so he hurried to make the point he thought was important here.

"I mean, we _are_ kids, Peter, so it's no surprise we're treated accordingly. You're right, we are also still kings, but even you have to see that it's not the same here as it was in Narnia! We have to adapt our behaviour to the circumstances and try to make the best of it! It doesn't matter how the adults treat you, but it _does_ matter how you react to it! And your reaction at the moment is _anything_ but appropriate!"

Peter gave a short bark of laughter and made a sweeping gesture with his arms.

"Aha! And you suddenly know everything, or what! Are you the Wise now, as well as the Just? Have you finally found the formula for a fulfilled and righteous life? Pray, let us hear it then!"

Edmund now slumped against the tree Peter had been leaning against earlier and pressed a hand to his forehead. This was going nowhere, and he was reaching his wit's end _and_ his limits.

"Peter, that's just stupid! I do _not_ know everything! I only wanted to say that the crown doesn't make the monarch, and that you shouldn't forget what Aslan taught us about being kings! I'm not sure if He wanted us to leave Narnia like we did, but I _do_ believe that nothing happens without Him knowing it! And I'm certain He has a plan, so we should try to act as He would want us to!"

Peter's eyes went hard as stone, Edmund shivered involuntarily as he glanced into them. Something sinister was swirling in their depths, and he once again wondered what had taken hold of his brother that made him be like this.

"I don't need Aslan to know how to be a king! If He sent us away, then I don't _want_ to know what He has to say! I don't care, and I don't need Him! I do things my own way!"

A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky as if to underline Peter's words, and if the tree hadn't been supporting him, Edmund surely would have fallen to the ground. What had happened to Peter to make him talk like this? How could he deny Aslan? Shock and fury warred within Edmund. This could not be happening! He wouldn't let Peter do this, not to himself and certainly not to Aslan! Anger and disappointment finally won out.

"Are you completely out of your mind now? Have you taken leave of every last one of your senses? That's no way for the High King of Narnia to talk! You've sworn oaths to Aslan! You've sworn to rule in His name, to be the executor of His will, and His alone! You have pledged your sword, your very life to Him! Are you honestly telling me that you are renouncing all of that? That you are _breaking_ your oaths? You know what, perhaps I shouldn't be surprised! You've not been acting like the High King in a long time because the High King _I _know wouldn't insult his mother or snap at his sister! He wouldn't sulk around and drown in self-pity! And he most certainly would not become a perjurer! You are no longer the king I adored, the king the Narnians loved and revered! You, my dear brother, are _no king at all_!"

Edmund was breathing heavily, almost overwhelmed by the tangled mess of emotions inside him, but at the same time relieved that he had finally given voice to the thoughts that had been preying on his mind for so long. He conceded that he might've worded some of it differently, but perhaps Peter _had_ to hear it spoken that bluntly to be flung out of the downwards spiral he had gotten into. Edmund closed his eyes briefly to try and regain some control, and then looked over to his brother.

What he saw there made his heart plummet. Peter was standing very still, almost as if he had turned into a statue, and had gone deathly pale. Only his eyes were blazing maniacally, so that Edmund felt he would be scorched at any moment. And he had never before been so afraid of his own brother.

For a few seconds nothing could be heard but the softly pattering rain, but to Edmund it seemed as if a roaring wave was rolling towards them. He could not imagine at all what would happen now and tried to brace himself for anything.

And then Peter exploded.

"Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP! How dare you accuse me of neglecting my duties? HOW DARE YOU SAY I AM NOT A KING? Do you want to take my place? Is this what you are trying to do, deposing me? Oh, I see how this is working! You have only waited for this chance to turn against me, haven't you? It is just as they say: You can't teach an old dog new tricks. You will always be a traitor! I should not have expected anything different! But you know what? I don't care! I do _not_ care about what you have to say, I do _not_ care about what you think! I never even wanted a brother to begin with, so why _should_ I? Just… just… ARGH! I wish you'd never been BORN!"

With a last contemptuous glare, Peter stormed off.

TBC

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Now I'm really curious what you think… And I know I'm evil. I hope you don't think Peter OOC, I believe that there are a lot of things that you'll say in the heat of the moment which you will regret immediately. But then it's usually already too late.

And on this note I wish you a Merry Christmas! I will probably not be able to post the next chapter before the beginning of next week. Oh, and can perhaps anyone tell me why ff dot net won't let me put a question and an exclamation mark right next to each other?


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

A big thank you to all my wonderful reviewers! I'm really happy that you liked this story so far! I hope you all had a great Christmas!

Now I'm quite curious what you will think about this chapter. I think it's a bit different from what you might expect…

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_With a last contemptuous glare, Peter stormed off._

Edmund however didn't notice any of it. He didn't notice the rain anymore or the lightning flashing across the sky, he didn't notice the cold wind whipping around him, and he also didn't notice as he sagged to the ground bonelessly.

He was empty, yet so filled to the brim with emotions that it felt as if he was slowly suffocating. It wasn't possible. It simply wasn't possible! The last few minutes had not happened, surely he must've imagined it! His brother hadn't just said that…

His mind shied away in a desperate attempt to protect itself, but it was useless. Edmund started shaking, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, he couldn't move. Everything inside him had shut down in shock. There was only one sentence in his head, circling around, becoming louder and louder until it filled his whole being.

'He wants you dead! He wants you dead!'

His ragged breathing hitched painfully, he was almost choking now, and then sobs started wracking his frame. Tears poured out of his eyes, mixing with the rain that was still beating down on him relentlessly, and fell to the earth unheeded. Edmund was certain that he would never again stop crying, but he didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to care about anything. Perhaps he should simply stay out here and freeze to death. Perhaps that would make Peter…

The name alone caused a new wave of sorrow, and his bruised soul rebelled against the pain rushing through him, but it was all in vain. Nothing could stop this flood that was about to drown him. Everything was over now. How could he continue with his life when the person he loved most hadn't wanted him from the beginning? Nothing made sense anymore, and it seemed to Edmund as if his whole world had been turned upside down. His sobs became louder as he cried his anguish out into the silence.

It felt as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest and thrown onto the ground, where it had shattered into a million tiny little pieces. He would surely never be able to put it back together again. And he didn't want to anyway. If loving someone could cause such unspeakable pain, then he'd rather not love ever again.

Some part of him was frantically searching for an explanation, anything to stop this dismal confusion. But Edmund was unable to find anything, there was nothing to hold onto, nothing to anchor him. He was adrift in a violent sea with no land in sight, and he didn't even know what to believe anymore. Had everything been a lie? Had he imagined their closeness, their bond, Peter's absolute protectiveness? No… no, it had been real… it _had_ to have been real! If his whole life had been an illusion… He couldn't begin to fathom what would happen should this be the case…

And yet… Peter's words kept repeating themselves in his head. He wished Edmund had never been born, had never wanted a brother… Edmund had nothing to set against these statements, had no reserves that allowed him to gain some distance, to maybe look at everything a bit more rationally. His grief was simply too great.

Time passed. He didn't know when it had happened, but he was lying curled up on his side now, still crying, screaming even, raging against the storm of thoughts that was consuming him, against the pain that was tearing him apart, and punching the hard, unforgiving ground with his fist. The skin soon broke and blood ran down his hand, but Edmund paid no heed to it, did not even feel it. This was nothing compared to the agony that was clutching his whole being with an iron fist. The coppery smell of blood reached his nose, and his mind led him back to Beruna. Once again the Witch was standing over him, her broken wand stained red, and once again he heard her icy voice telling him that he was now hers forever. Perhaps he hadn't been meant to survive this battle at all…

A rumble of thunder jolted him out of this particular memory, but his thoughts continued to stumble over each other in a hopelessly jumbled mess. The only notion that stood out clearly was that he would likely never recover from this blow.

Why?

Why had it happened?

What had he done wrong?

What had he done that his brother, his best friend, hated him so much?

And what should he do now?

What _could_ he do?

Edmund couldn't think of anything, but he knew that he couldn't go home. Quite apart from the fact that just the idea of seeing Peter sent bolts of searing torment through his whole body, he felt as if he would never be able to move again. He was simply frozen in abject shock and horror, even his hand had stilled now. There was nothing but the trembles still coursing through him and the steadily flowing tears.

In this instant, Edmund wanted to die, just to make the pain stop…

Suddenly, a strange feeling washed over him, like a warm wind or a soft caress. And Edmund realised that he wasn't alone in the park any longer. There was an almost tangible presence filling the air around him. It took all of his strength, but he managed to push himself to his knees shakily and looked around, but he could see nothing. Still, the feeling remained… and then he heard a voice, loud and clear, as if someone was speaking right next to his ear.

"Edmund."

He recognised it instantly, and as the loving and gentle tones wrapped themselves around his bruised and battered heart, he felt a small measure of relief.

"Aslan!"

It was nothing more than a choked whisper, but He heard – and He understood.

"Do not despair, my Dear Child. You are not alone. I have been beside you always, and I will never desert you."

Edmund buried his head in his hands and continued to cry, he couldn't seem to stop. Aslan was here! However…

"But Aslan… did you… have you… Peter…"

He could not bring order into his thoughts, could not express what was weighing down his soul, but Aslan seemed to know.

"I have heard every word your brother has spoken. I have seen your pain and suffering, I see every tear you cry. Yet I also have to ask you, King Edmund the Just: Do you believe what he has said to be true?"

The use of his title and the intensity in Aslan's voice made Edmund look up again. For the blink of an eye he thought he saw the silhouette of a great Lion, but then it was gone again. The question itself though strangely enough brought some amount of order into his thoughts, and the reminder of his royal dignity gave him the ability to assess them more or less objectively.

Did he believe what Peter had said? He was hurt beyond measure, that much was true, but did he honestly _believe_ it? Part of the answer was very easy. He most certainly did not believe that he was still a traitor, and somehow he was also sure that Peter did not really think that himself. Too much had happened, and he had gone through so much that he knew with absolute certainty that that part of him was well and truly gone. As for the rest…

Snapshots of their life together passed by his mind's eye.

The expression on Peter's face when he came to on the battlefield at Beruna.

Peter sitting at his bedside for two weeks straight when he was gripped by a raging fever.

A shout full of desperation when he left his brother's sight during a fight against the last remnants of the Witch's army.

Letters full of tender sentiments, admonishing him to stay safe and be careful during their visit to Calormen while the High King had to do battle in the North.

No, he had not imagined all of it, had not imagined the love and affection. It had been there! So therefore he technically shouldn't be able to believe what Peter had said.

But then the words came roaring back, drowning out the conclusion he had just reached. They could not be unsaid, and if Peter had spoken them, perhaps they held some grain of truth…? Once again confusion threatened to overwhelm him, and his newly found, budding clarity was slipping away again.

"I… I don't know, Aslan. I don't _want _to believe it to be true… But… but why… Why would he say that he… that he doesn't want a brother… doesn't want _me_, if he didn't mean it? He isn't a liar, and he isn't cruel… or he wasn't? I just don't know anymore, Aslan! He is not the Peter I know and love anymore! … Oh, everything is so muddled up! If he isn't himself, does that mean he _didn't_ mean it? But then I still don't understand… Aslan, what is wrong with Peter? Please, can't you tell me? It feels as if I'm slowly going mad!"

Edmund heard a quiet chuckle and had to grin ruefully himself when he realised what he had said.

"You know that I can only ever tell you your own story, Dear One. You have however already found part of the answer yourself. Your brother has strayed very far from who he is. Yet this is his path, and you have your own to walk on. The choice is yours, my Son. How do you respond to Peter's actions?"

Edmund pondered this query for a long time while Aslan remained silent, the absolute love that was still surrounding him being the only indication that He was still there. It was a valid question, considering that he couldn't even imagine facing Peter at the moment. He had to admit that he was at a complete loss. Every time he tried to figure out which choices he might have, the poisonous words returned to him, paralysing his thoughts and incapacitating him utterly.

"I don't know! I _cannot_ respond! I can't, Aslan! It hurts, it hurts so much! Even if he didn't mean it, he still said it! How could he do this to me? And what can _I _do? What _shall_ I do?"

Aslan's voice turned into a purr that filled him and wrapped around him like an embrace.

"Edmund, you have to forgive him."

He gasped in surprise, stilling completely. That was a notion he hadn't even come close to considering. And one he didn't find particularly appealing either.

"What? Forgive him? Simply say it never happened and that everything's alright? That's impossible, Aslan! I can't do that! I don't _want_ to do that!"

Edmund didn't understand Aslan most of the time, but this was even more incomprehensible than what He usually told them. But before he could get more agitated, a gentle nudge brushed his soul, calming him immediately and soothing some of his anger and pain.

"Dear One, do not be obstinate. Forgiveness does not mean that you forget what happened or pretend that everything is normal when it is not. It means that you do not keep your brother in your debt, that you do not bind him _and_ yourself to a circle of perceived guilt and righteousness, that you do not fall victim to bitterness. It is the first step toward your healing, Dear Heart."

Edmund opened his mouth, but no words were coming out. He was speechless in surprise. Never before had he thought about forgiveness in such a manner, and he had to confess that he was curious now and wanted to know more.

"But what does it change? I can't imagine that Peter will suddenly be himself again just because I forgive him. Or that our relationship will return to normal."

Somehow, Edmund knew that a twinkle had now entered Aslan's golden eyes, even though He still sounded very serious.

"No, it does not change your brother, nor does it change the circumstances you are now in. However, it changes you and your outlook. You will not have to bear the burden of your bitterness, you will not have to remain in your pain, and you will be able to face your brother and look him in the eye without wanting to hurt him in the same manner. And you will be free. Free to live your life without the shadow of Peter's words hanging over you. Free to love and trust without reservations."

Edmund was completely stunned and contemplated this for a long time. It sounded too good to be true, and he could not really imagine how it was to work. He couldn't wrap his head around the concept of forgiving Peter, the wound that had been inflicted on him was still too fresh, the pain was too acute and immeasurable in its intensity. On top of that there was a great amount of righteous anger inside him that he felt very much entitled to. It was all well and good not to become bitter and everything else, but didn't Peter deserve to suffer at least a little bit for what he had done to him? Shouldn't he feel the same guilt that Edmund had had to deal with after his treason? Aslan surely had to see that it was only fair if Peter suffered some as well!

"But… I don't know if I _want_ to forgive him, Aslan! You told me that you heard what he said, so you know how absolutely horrible it was! I've never been hurt so badly! So, do I not have a right to be angry? Shouldn't he know and feel what his words did to me?"

As soon as he had ended, Edmund was startled quite a lot because now a very distinct growl entered Aslan's voice. He cringed involuntarily.

"No, Edmund, you do not have a right. Every one of you has heaped guilt on his head in one way or another. It is not your place to set yourself up as your brother's judge. He will be made aware of what he did, he already is, and he will be called to account for his deeds, but this is not your responsibility. Do not forget in your anger that you also have been forgiven. Therefore it is your task to forgive those who have wronged you as well."

All of a sudden, the anger bubbling inside him was cooled down, as if doused with a shower of ice water. Edmund realised that he had been so focused on Peter's actions and on this feeling of being in the right that he had pushed away what Aslan had done for _him_ completely. Aslan had forgiven him without any restraints or reproaches; it was in fact the first thing He had told him when he had arrived at the camp that morning so many years ago. He vividly remembered his shame and fear, his inability to lift his eyes from the ground, his certainty that the Great Lion would condemn him forever for being a traitor and his conviction that he deserved nothing less. And then Aslan had spoken, and His first words had been, 'My Son, I forgive you.' Edmund knew that he would never forget that moment when all of his burdens had simply been lifted off his shoulders.

Seen in this light, Aslan's gentle reproof carried even more weight. It was true, he did not have any right to deny his brother what had been given to him so freely. To do so anyway would be a veritable slap in the face of Aslan's sacrifice.

Edmund was reminded of his own oaths to Aslan, and one sentence stood out as if it had been written in fire upon is heart: _I shall delight to do thy will, and thy law shall be within my heart. _He could not refuse to do Aslan's will, not after everything he had experienced with Him. And looking deep into himself he also found this tiny voice, almost buried by all the hurt and confusion, that said that he didn't want to give up his relationship to Peter. But in the same breath, Edmund had to admit that he couldn't.

"I'm sorry, Aslan. I do understand what you're saying, and I think I want to forgive Peter, but… I don't know how. It really hurts so much! And it's so hard!"

Tears streamed down his face again, and he was quite frustrated with himself and what he saw as a weakness, but then he felt a brush against his cheek, as if someone wanted to wipe his tears away. The feeling of love around him intensified until he seemed to be completely cocooned in it. Edmund had never felt so cherished in his whole life, and in this moment he was certain that he could face anything.

"Do not be sorry, Little One. I know that you cannot do it of your own accord. But remember, Edmund, that my strength is made perfect in weakness. Your will to forgive your brother is enough. I will accomplish the rest. I will give you the strength you need, and I will not forsake you to walk this thorny way alone. For healing takes time, Dear Heart, and you will have to forgive your brother more than once before the pain leaves you once and for all. If you trust me, we can take the first step together today."

Edmund was silent for a long time, letting Aslan's word take hold in him. He did have faith in Him, and if He was with him, he would gladly take this step. But he also couldn't help wondering what would happen when he returned home. How would Peter react? What would his brother say? Now, with Aslan's presence all about him, the part of him that would never reject Peter came to the fore again, together with all the chaos of the last few months.

"Of course I trust you, and if you help me… But I'm still so confused, Aslan! I just wish I could understand what is going on, why he would hurt me so! I only wanted to help him, I want to even now! You know how much I love him, so…"

Here Edmund was interrupted by a bump to his chest that almost toppled him over and made him forget what he had wanted to say. Then Aslan spoke again, his tones now so tender that they almost rent his heart in two.

"Do not torture yourself with these questions that will never yield a satisfactory answer. You do not have to understand all the whys and wherefores if you only trust. I know how much Peter hurt you, I have felt your agony, and I also know how much he means to you. But I love him more than you will ever be able to, my Child. So forgive him in spite of your unanswered questions, release him from his debt to you and set him free. Let him go, entrust him to my care and have faith that I will watch over him. Let go of your wish for retribution and do not judge him, so that you will not be judged. Be assured, I will accomplish that which concerns you, and I will vindicate you."

A shiver ran down Edmund's spine, and then a strange, inexplicable calm descended on him. His doubts dissolved, his questions became immaterial, and he suddenly _knew_ that he could do this. Edmund closed his eyes and concentrated on Aslan alone. After a moment, words came to his mind as if someone was whispering them into his ear, and he just had to say them out loud.

"Alright, I forgive Peter in Your name. I will not bear him a grudge, I will not seek to pay him back in kind, and I put him into Your mighty paws."

As soon as he finished, Edmund felt as if a great weight had been taken away from him, and peace such as he had never before experienced entered his heart. He could not explain it, could not comprehend it, but he was content with that. Aslan had promised to be there with him, so everything would be well.

Edmund now opened his eyes to be greeted by the sight of a beautiful rainbow. The rain had been reduced to a drizzle, the sun had broken through the clouds, and it almost looked as if the brilliant arch was spanning a bridge from earth right into heaven. To Edmund it seemed to be a symbol of what had just happened to him, stepping out of the darkness and into the light again. He was all of a sudden giddy with happiness and wished that the great Lion could be here in body as well, so that he could hug him. As it was, speech had to be enough.

"Thank you! I don't know what to say, Aslan! Just… Thank you so much! I don't know what I would have done without you!"

He heard quiet laughter reverberating in the air and sensed such vast love and joy that it almost took his breath away. And he couldn't help joining in the laughter, feeling a little more of his pain draining away.

"It is very well done, my Son. You have already come a long way, and I am proud of you."

This simple praise meant more to Edmund than he could express. It was somehow in his nature to question himself more often than not, to have doubts about the justness of his actions, so that Aslan's assurances were a great relief and made him stand taller in some way. He breathed deeply and simply enjoyed Aslan's nearness for a time. Then his brother entered his thoughts again, and while a lot of the pain had dissipated, there were still many unanswered questions that he simply had to ask despite what He had told him.

"Aslan, please… Can't you tell me… Will 'our' Peter come back? Will we talk about what happened? Will everything go back to the way it was before, to normal?"

Aslan was silent for a long while, and Edmund was fairly certain He would not reply. He never answered questions such as these, He had told Lucy once that they had to discover the future in their own way and on their own time. Edmund nevertheless hoped for some sort of guidance because even though he had forgiven Peter now, he still felt very insecure and would like to know what to expect or how to behave. Aslan's voice, when it came, was exceptionally serious.

"I cannot tell you that which has not yet come to pass, Dear One. I can however tell you that a lot of patience will be required of you. Patience with yourself, and patience with your brother. Do not expect to talk to him today or tomorrow, not even this week or this month. Also do not expect your relationship to remain the same. But have faith and remember what I have promised you. I know that this lesson is a hard one, yet you must learn that you are not responsible for your brother's actions, and that he has to make his own decisions and experiences and has to bear their consequences himself. You can attempt to support him, Edmund, but the choices are his own."

Edmund couldn't remember Aslan ever speaking that plainly before, and he was thankful. He realised that he needed things spoken aloud that explicitly to finally begin to accept that he didn't have to – in fact could not – right things single-handedly or bring Peter back. It was a humbling experience that he still had to be taught so much about Aslan and His ways after more than fifteen years of knowing Him. And Edmund also knew that patience would not be easy, especially if he saw Peter hitting the proverbial brick wall time and again. He sighed loudly, and Aslan, who was of course very much acquainted with his manner of thinking, now spoke with such authority and affection that none of his doubts and misgivings could resist against it.

"Be strong and of good courage, my dearest Child, for you are not alone. Do not forget that I will be with you always, even unto the end of the world."

Edmund felt a loving kiss pressed to his forehead, almost like a blessing, and then Aslan's presence around him slowly receded until it was gone. But in his heart he felt the echoes of a mighty roar and the simple knowledge that He was still there. He blinked as if waking from a dream, looking around at the drops of water on the grass glinting in the sunlight and at the ducks swimming happily on the pond again. The rain had stopped, the grey clouds had dispersed, and light had followed the darkness.

TBC

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_Judge not, and ye shall not be judged. Condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned.__ Forgive__, and ye shall be__ forgive__n. – Luke 6,37  


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This chapter was quite hard for me to write, and I really wanted to get it out right because some of what I've written in here is based on my own experiences (though nothing as bad as Edmund's). I'd be very happy to hear your thoughts on it!

And I wish all of you a good start into the New Year!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Thank you again to everyone who reviewed! I'm so happy that you liked the previous chapter because it was very important to me. This is the last chapter for this story. I hope you haven't forgotten that it was all a memory for Edmund, so I couldn't really get into what is going on with Peter. I'm thinking about writing a spin off because so many of you said they wanted to know more about what is going to happen with Peter now and how the girls will react.

For the moment, we are coming full circle and are back in the present, which is about half a year after PC.

Oh, and perhaps a warning is in order: Beware of the brotherly fluff!

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The memories dissolve, and I'm back in my room, still looking at myself in the mirror. Every time I think of that day I'm in awe all over again. I have to admit that I still don't understand completely what happened in that park, and I rather think that I never will, but I do know that Aslan saved me once more, pulling me back from a dangerous precipice just in the nick of time. I don't even want to imagine what would have happened, what I would have _done_ had he not appeared to me there. I remember what I thought and felt before He spoke to me very clearly, and I believe it is very likely that I would not have returned home that day – or ever. The idea alone is so horrifying that I'd rather not think about it at all, but considering the state I was in after Peter had disappeared…

As it was, I did manage to go home and to face Peter without wanting to bash his head in, though it was extremely hard and nothing in the circumstances changed at first. The next few days in fact were more than awkward. Peter was avoiding me like the plague, left the room as soon as I entered it and wouldn't look me in the eye, wouldn't even glance at me. It was so difficult to bear, and if Aslan's words hadn't accompanied me at all times, I surely would have assumed that he well and truly hated me. But just as Aslan had promised, something inside me had shifted slightly, and I could somehow recognise what was behind many of the things Peter did, as if they had become transparent. On the rare occasions that we _were_ in the same room for more than a minute, I believed to detect a pain that he was burying deep inside, and I could see the guilt that he could not express swirling through his eyes.

It was so difficult witnessing Peter almost being torn apart, and despite everything I still so much wanted to help him. Standing aside because I knew I could not force my support on him was probably one of the most challenging things I've ever done. It still took me many sleepless nights and angry tears until the conviction that Peter's state of mind was ultimately not my responsibility reached my heart, but in hindsight I can say that this time was important for me because I learned so much more about what it meant to trust Aslan.

And I learned patience because it took almost three more months of having to watch him almost destroy himself until my Peter came back completely. Yet it was all worth it in the end. Since our first conversation we have talked about this day at length which has only brought us closer together. Aslan was right, our relationship _did_ change, but only for the best. And although I know that I will carry the memories of what happened with me my whole life, they don't hurt me anymore. I'm certain that the pain I felt has left its mark on me, the remnants of it in my eyes are a testament to that, but I also know that it doesn't hold any power over me.

The fact that Aslan did all this for me is still as amazing as it was that first day. It was His grace alone that saved me, and I could do nothing but accept it and thank Him for it. I wouldn't have been able to pull out myself. I have to smile slightly, and it might be my imagination, but I think my eyes are softening a bit.

Then a laughing Peter bursts into my room, effectively ending my reflections, and I turn away from the mirror to face him.

"Ed! What are you doing up here? We are having such a blast with the cookies! Lucy wanted to do lion-shaped ones, but we did not have enough dough anymore, so we started a new batch. And then Lu tripped over a chair and spread flour all over the kitchen! You have to see it! It looks as if it has snowed inside! And you have to try the cookies we've already finished!"

I put a hand in front of my mouth, trying to rein in the very undignified giggles wanting to emerge. He looks so hilarious with this red-and-blue-striped apron, flour streaked in his hair and a smudge of what I suspect is chocolate on his cheek! Instead I put on a mock scowl.

"Aha! I see where this is going. You're trying to lure your hapless younger brother downstairs with promises of floury snow and delicious cookies, only to con him into cleaning up your mess. Just admit it, I've seen right through you!"

I'm shaking my finger at him threateningly, and he stops laughing, looking at me in confusion for a moment. I mentally congratulate myself on my convincing act, I still manage to throw him on occasion. But then I blow my serious façade by starting to chuckle myself, so I cross over to him and begin to brush at his hair. He swats at my hands, taking hold of one of my arms and tugging on it.

"Oh stop it, Edmund! You know you cannot resist _any_ cookies! And if you decided to help your poor ailing siblings while you are in the kitchen anyway, we would of course be eternally grateful. Lucy even wants to make some special cookies just for you, though I am not sure you will appreciate the deer she is set on…"

His words are accompanied by a teasing grin, and I can't help groaning and rolling my eyes slightly.

"Don't tell me she's _still_ on about that! When will she stop?"

I know that I'm very nearly whining, but I don't care. Peter of course is not very helpful and just laughs again.

"Come on, Ed, you have to admit it was very funny."

The question my dear brother is so conveniently forgetting is for _whom_ the whole ordeal was funny! Because it certainly was not for me! Just remembering that doe, charging at me headfirst… And my loving siblings laughing their heads of certainly didn't help matters, a fact of which I still like to remind them.

"I'm not admitting anything, but I will gladly come downstairs with you to watch your cleaning efforts. And to prevent Lucy from mutilating the poor cookies."

I move away from him and start towards the door, but a hand on my shoulder halts me before I've taken more than a few steps. I look at him and am surprised to see that his laughter has stopped suddenly.

"Wait. You didn't answer my question. What _were_ you doing up here? You looked quite far away when I came in."

Oh, isn't that just great! Trust Peter to notice every last little thing about me, even when his mind is on cookies! I sigh quietly because I really don't know what to tell him, and I'm not sure I want to go where my mind was only minutes ago. He is in such a good mood, and I love to see him carefree like this, so I don't want to ruin it. And that's what will happen when I tell him now. I can't help the coil of unease that is snaking into the pit of my stomach. He will turn all serious, he will want to know exactly how I am, and worst of all, he will most likely feel guilty again. Peter truly is too noble for his own good, always taking everyone's feelings on himself and seeing most things as his fault, and I hate it when that look of shame mixed with the most tender affection enters his eyes.

But I've been silent for too long, and I know it's over for me now. Peter is steering me towards the bed, pushing me to sit on it, and then crouches down in front of me to look into my eyes.

"Ed? Are you alright?"

The worry is written plainly on his face, telling me that he will not let go until he knows precisely what is going on, now that he thinks there's something bothering me. But I will still try to deflect him because I really, really don't want to dredge up all these memories for him. It's simply not necessary because my recollections weren't even disturbing me! So I shrug, putting on my best unconcerned face, and hope that it will work.

"Sure, everything's fine. I was just caught up in some memories, so I might've looked a bit preoccupied. There's nothing to worry about, so you can stop looking at me like that. Let's go!"

I try to get up, but Peter has put his hands on my knees now, effectively keeping me in place. I should've known that it was a vain hope.

"What kind of memories? And please let me decide if there is anything to worry about. You did _not_ look very happy!"

I turn my head away, looking out of the window at the still falling snow, and I can feel him tensing slightly. Then he takes one of my hands in both of his and tugs a bit, and I know that I have to answer. But not without another try!

"Doesn't matter! It's not important, Peter. And I _am _happy! I was just thoughtful, not downcast! Anyway, it's long over and in the past. Come on now, I bet Lucy's waiting already!"

I'm spectacularly unsuccessful however because Peter only snorts softly, then one of his hands is on my cheek and he is turning my head back towards him.

"It _has_ to be important if you so adamantly do not want to talk about it. And from that look I am guessing it has something to do with me. I don't know what you are trying to do, but you should make this easier for both of us and just tell me."

I sigh quietly, and he knows that he has won. He really is too persistent for his own good and never learned to let sleeping dogs lie. I only hope this doesn't blow up in both our faces. He has gotten up from the floor now and is settling down beside me on the bed, regarding me expectantly. I can't help sighing again.

"Well alright, if you absolutely have to know, I was remembering that day in the park, when we had the big fight. But…"

Before I can continue he is jumping up again, turning his back to me and clenching his fists. But I've seen that he has paled dramatically in the space of a few seconds, and the suddenly rigid set of his shoulders tells me that he's desperately trying to keep some emotions in. I _knew_ this would happen, yet I'm not prepared to let him get away with it. So I grab his arm and pull him back down to my side, holding on to him until he stops attempting to escape and instead clasps his hands tightly in his lap. His whole stance is screaming remorse and guilt, and I want nothing more than to hug him, but I know he wouldn't accept it just now. I have to make him understand…

"See! That's exactly why I didn't want to tell you! I knew you'd react like that, feeling all guilty and probably persuading yourself that you're the worst person in the world! But you can stop it right there, you hear me? It's in the past, and I wasn't thinking about it because I'm hurt or in pain or angry or whatever else you've worked out in your head! It was just some general reminiscing, and like I said, I'm perfectly fine!"

Peter glances at me quickly, my words obviously not really registering with him because there's complete disbelief and overwhelming sorrow in his eyes. He shakes his head and returns his gaze to his hands, and I would really like to knock some sense into him. It's so frustrating that he always puts these burdens on himself.

"How can I stop when I… when I… How can you expect me to stop feeling guilty? Ed, I… I still can't believe that I said these horrible things to you! It's… I am… I can't simply stop thinking about it! How can you say it is in the past?"

Seeing him like this hurts more than remembering the day itself, and I just wish he would stop beating himself up so much. I take his face between my hands and force him to look at me, trying to convey my sincerity through my eyes.

"Pete, we've talked about this day over and over. You know I've forgiven you. So why is this still haunting you so much?"

He cups my hands with his own, regarding me with heartbreaking tenderness, then turns his head slightly to press a kiss to my palm. My breath catches in my throat.

"Because I hurt the person I love most in the world in the worst possible manner. Because I am horrified that there is this stranger inside me that is capable of _saying_ these things, of being that cruel. And because I still do not understand how you could forgive me when I asked!"

I can't help the breathy sob that's escaping me and throw my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. I can sense he's surprised at first, but then his own arms come up, and he's clutching me to himself as if he never wants to let me go. He's shivering slightly, and for the first time I truly realise how much this incident is still troubling him. I probably should have noticed sooner, Peter has always been exceptionally bad at coming to terms with what he perceives as his failings.

I sit back again, but he retains a hold of my hand, and the guilt is still clearly visible in his eyes. Perhaps the time has come to tell him the part of the story he is not yet aware of. We've spoken at length about what _he _was feeling in the months after leaving Narnia, what was going through his head that day, particularly after he left the park. We talked through _my_ feelings, a conversation that cost both of us a lot of strength and tears. But there is one thing I didn't disclose in all of our confessions. I don't know why, it just never felt right. Now it does.

"What you don't know, Pete, is that I forgave you long before you asked."

Peter's grip on my hand gets stronger, and he blinks at me in obvious confusion. I have to smile at that, his flustered look is always an amusing sight to behold.

"What do you mean?"

I motion for him, and he scoots over obligingly, putting his head on my shoulder as soon as I wrap my arm around him. I drop a kiss to his hair, hoping he'll be open to what I have to say.

"I mean just that. I forgave you on that day, in the park."

He jerks in my embrace as if I have dealt him a blow he doesn't know how to handle at all.

"What? But I had just… I had said… And you _told _me how hurt you were! How could you…"

His voice has risen, and I cringe a bit. I should've known he would react like this, Peter has trouble accepting forgiveness at the best of times, but now that I've gotten this far, I won't stop.

"Aslan spoke to me."

Just saying the words causes a warm feeling to wash over me, and I am suddenly filled with a calm that lets me know everything will be alright. Perhaps things had to settle down a bit before I could tell Peter about this. The encounter with Aslan is so intensely personal to me, it changed me in such a profound way, and I'm not sure I could bear it if Peter didn't understand me. Said big brother meanwhile has pushed himself away from me, staring at me with wide eyes.

"You met Aslan? Here? Why did you never tell me?"

It's a valid question, but not one I've prepared myself to answer because there's more to it than simply thinking the time is not right. I've promised myself however that I will be completely honest with him, so I'll have to try and put my thoughts into words.

"I didn't _see _him, so I don't know if you can call it 'meeting' Him, but He did speak to me. I'm sorry I never told you. We were… we were talking about that day so much, and somehow… It felt wrong to tell you at the time! You always said how much you had missed Aslan, how despondent you had been, so I didn't want to bring it up that I kind of encountered Him. And…"

I break off because Peter has gotten up from the bed and has started pacing, shaking his head as if he's debating something with himself. I only hope I haven't said anything to hurt him. But then his hand lands on my hair, and he starts caressing it softly. The tension I hadn't even realised building in me evaporates.

"Hey, no need to be sorry. _I _am sorry that you didn't feel you could tell me. But you don't have to protect me all the time. I could have coped."

I close my eyes and sigh, leaning my head against his stomach. He is the only person who invariably manages to put me on an emotional roller coaster from love to exasperation to sadness to amusement in the space of a few minutes.

"Pete, please! I don't want you to feel guilty about yet another thing! I just want you to know what happened that day, so that you can _stop_ with the guilt trip!"

He laughs quietly and squeezes me a bit.

"Well, start talking then. What did he say?"

I look up at him, noting the honest curiosity on his face, and try to find the right words to say this as plainly as possible.

"He said that I have to forgive you, that it's the only way to my healing, and that I don't have a right to judge you. So I did. Forgive you, that is. I won't lie and tell you it was easy, but it _helped_. And Aslan helped me, too, even afterwards. Whenever I was feeling down, I could think about what He promised me, that He would be with me always, and then it really got easier over time. Anyway, it was worth it to get you back. I don't think we'd be where we are now if Aslan hadn't spoken to me."

It feels good to finally say all of this out loud, but Peter is simply silent now, and I'm not sure what to think. I only want him to find healing for himself, but his silence is making me feel a bit uncomfortable.

"Peter? Say something. Please?"

Instead of answering a brilliant smile slowly spreads over his face, and then he leans down to clasp me to him tightly, causing both of us to topple onto the bed in a tangled heap. We both start laughing and can't seem to stop for a few minutes. I have no idea why, nothing particularly funny has happened, but it certainly helps to lighten the somewhat charged atmosphere. Peter is resting his head on my chest now, still chuckling from time to time.

"Do you even know how amazing you are, Ed?"

It's a good thing he's not looking at me at the moment, as I have turned what is surely a nice shade of red. He really should not say things like that to me, especially when I don't know what he's talking about at all, so I decide not to reply. But that doesn't matter, he once again displays his talent of reading my thoughts.

"You can stop blushing, Ed, it is the truth. Only you would say something like this as if it was the most normal thing in the world. I have to say I'm really glad that Aslan was there for you when I… when I could not. But… I still do not get how you could do it. I would not have forgiven me… _I _have not…"

The last is only a whisper because he has buried his face in my shirt, but to me it sounds as loud as if he had shouted it. Is this the source of his still present guilt? If it is, I'll have to address it now because I've been exactly where he is now.

"That's the point, Pete. _I_ could not do anything. But Aslan could, and he gave me strength I needed to forgive you. And He will do the same for you, if you only let Him! You need to forgive _yourself_ if you don't want to be consumed by guilt every time you think about that day."

He starts trembling in my arms, and after another moment hushed sobs are reaching my ears. I can feel tears stinging my own eyes, and I wonder how much more emotion this day can hold.

"I don't know if I can do that, Eddy. I do not want to forget what I did so that I can make sure it never happens again. It would kill me if I ever hurt you like that again!"

My tears fall then, and if it is at all possible, I love him even more. Why does he have to be so noble all the time? Trust him to choose suffering over healing just because he thinks it's keeping _me_ safe!

"Oh, Pete! It's not about forgetting! I'm sure neither of us will ever 'forget' what happened! It's about you not condemning yourself any longer! And it's about healing! Do you think I like it that you are carrying this around with you all the time? You have to forgive yourself, and you have to _accept_ mine and Aslan's forgiveness! I hope you know that I truly meant it when you asked me."

I close my eyes and try to calm my racing heart. Sometimes getting through to Peter is harder than preparing for battle because he simply likes taking on responsibility for anything and everything. Peter's shaking has ceased now, and he is completely still, as if in deep contemplation, and somehow I'm glad that everything is out in the open now. I let the silence envelop us, listening to Peter's breathing and pleading with Aslan to let him understand. Then I feel a hand on my cheek, brushing my tears away, and I open my eyes again to see Peter leaning over me, seemingly much more peaceful now.

"Please, Eddy, I don't want you to be sad. I know you meant it, I would never think otherwise. And I can sort of see where you are coming from, but… This is really not easy for me."

I snort lightly and nudge him away so that I can sit up again. He really _does_ like stating the obvious!

"It's not supposed to be easy, Peter. We wouldn't learn anything if it was. But that's what I'm here for. You know I'll help you any way I can if you just let me. Believe me, I'm even prepared to knock sense into you if you need it. And there's Aslan of course. He'll give you everything you need if you just ask Him and are willing to change your thinking."

He's sitting opposite me now, looking at me solemnly, and I would really like to know what is going on inside his head. I can usually read him pretty well, but he's giving nothing away now. The one thing that is obvious however is that his own tension is finally leaving him, and I'll regard this as a definite victory. Perhaps we can finally begin to lay the last traces of that most painful fight to rest.

Peter is grinning at me now, and I'm happier to see it than I am willing to admit.

"At least I was right about one thing: You definitely are the Wise as well. I promise you that I will work on forgiving myself, though I bet it will take time. Thank you, Eddy. Thank you for everything, for being there for me, for bearing with me, and for confronting me when I become unreasonable."

He gazes at me for a long moment while I squirm a bit uncomfortably. What's with all the praises? It's natural that I'm there for him, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Peter now leaves the bed, bending over me to press a kiss to my forehead, and then heads to the window, looking out at the white world with a content expression on his face. Something is niggling at the back of my head, and I try to get a hold of it.

"Pete, you're very welcome, but you don't have to thank me. I'm your _brother_. You know what I read once? 'Brothers and sisters are as close as hands and feet.' And it's true. I could no more be _not _there for you than I could chop of my own foot."

I join him at the window, and he glances at me quickly with a smile, remaining otherwise silent. There's no need for words, really, he knows what I wanted to tell him, and I understand what he's not saying.

But then he surprises me once again, wrapping his arms around me from behind and drawing me to his chest, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"I don't think I tell you this often enough, but you are the best brother in the whole world, and I cannot imagine my life without you. I love you, Ed."

I blink away some more tears and look at our reflections in the windowpane, dark and fair right next to each other, like two sides of a coin. And seeing us like this, close together, I'm not sure that either of us could survive without the other. I lean my head against his, gripping his arms tightly.

"I love you too, Pete."

He smiles at me again brightly and loosens his hold on me, but I still manage to kiss his cheek before he steps away completely. The affection in his eyes grows stronger while a slight redness creeps up his face, and I have to admit I'm a bit smug about the fact that I can fluster him just as well as he sometimes does me.

"Well, come on then, brother mine. There is still someone awaiting our assistance. I am sure Lucy is already wondering what dastardly fate has befallen us up here."

As if on cue, our little sister's voice floats up the stairs.

"Peter! Edmund! What's taking you so long? I need your help here! My lions look like suns with eyes and legs and there's still flour on the cupboards!"

We look at each other and break out into peals of laughter. Poor Lucy, craftsmanship has never been her forte, she is more the musical type, and it is usually Susan who is responsible for creative things such as shaping beautiful cookies for example. But as our big sister is conspicuously absent for this year's Christmas preparations, the task has fallen to Lucy who is obviously in need of our aid now. So I gesture towards the door and bow deeply to Peter.

"My king, it appears another quest is calling for us. Let us therefore proceed to rescue our royal sister from the dreadful curse of the misshapen cookies."

Peter giggles at that – yes, it _is_ gigging, though he'd probably deny it most vehemently – and then steps out of the room to return to the kitchen. I follow him, and when I reach him, he puts his arm around my shoulder, waiting for me to fall into step beside him. I turn slightly to close the door, and my gaze lands on the mirror again.

For a second I see not my own face, but the great Lion's head, watching me lovingly and nodding as if in approval.

The End

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

This is the song that inspired the whole story:

_The reflection in the mirror cannot hide the lines of pain,  
how clearly I remember standing outside in the rain.  
I thought my life was over, thought I'd never love again.  
The pieces of my broken heart were scattered in the rain.  
But I was not alone that night, Your presence filled the air.  
Had it not been for You, my Lord, I'd still be standing there._

_And I stand under Your healing wings,  
I open my arms and accept your grace.  
Oh, I love how Your healing brings me  
back to the place of the giving and taking of love._

_It's still not always easy, though the scars have gone away.  
I catch myself remembering that cold and dreary day.  
I remember how I could not breathe, could not collect my thoughts,  
on a wild rollercoaster that I could not get off.  
But I remember crystal-clear the words You said to me:  
"I love him more than you do, my Child, so forgive and set him free."

* * *

_

Thank you all so much for reading the story and writing such wonderful comments! Please tell me what you think of the last chapter, and also if you want me to write the spinoff I mentioned in the beginning. It would probably be AU from movieverse because… Well, you'd have to see it. :)

I'll give you a small snippet of what I have already written:

_Peter stormed out of the park, his rage still at the point of boiling over and so white-hot that it was a wonder the raindrops did not evaporate as soon as they touched him. There was no clear thought in his mind, and had he met anyone at this precise moment, the consequences might have been dire. As it was, the rain was keeping everyone indoors, and he was left to his anger and his furious indignation._

_How dare he? How dare Edmund say he was no king? Never in his life had he been insulted so horrendously, and if that was not a stab in the back he did not know what was! If they had been in Narnia, he would have challenged the… the offender to a duel immediately to restore his honour and to demand satisfaction!_

I'd be happy to hear your thoughts. It would probably take me some time to post this because I have two presentations and term papers for university coming up.


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